


Kisses like Broken Glass

by BadassCompany



Series: The Things We Did (But Never Spoke Of) [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Canon Compliant, Crying During Sex, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Sex, Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, Goodbyes, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Post-Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, Smut, coda fic, destiel smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9145093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadassCompany/pseuds/BadassCompany
Summary: "I wanted to tear my way inside of him, steal a piece of him for myself and bury it under my skin. I was weak in that moment, so very weak for him."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2017, everyone!   
> I'm hoping to upload the very first part of this series within a day or two, once it's been edited. (I had some problems with chronology that I needed to sort out before posting.) I may or may not be writing one final part after this, probably set at the end of s11 somewhere; so stay tuned!

_“Listen, buddy… you can’t stay.”_

It was almost funny, if you thought about it. When I came back from Purgatory, he’d been unable to believe that staying behind was my own choice. That I’d left him. The only thing he could ask of me afterwards? _Don’t go._ Well. I had broken that promise in under a week. He was my dream world, and I couldn’t let him get destroyed by my mistakes. Since that night, I’d betrayed him many times, beat him to a bloody pulp, and left. He’d said he needed me. And here we were.

In the old days, I would’ve just stood, got my coat, and – no, wait. I would’ve already been standing, in my coat, ready to disappear or spring into action at a moment’s notice. I wouldn’t have been leaning back against the chair, telling him how I appreciated our time and talks together, believing for one moment that I was warm and safe. That I had a place here. I was human now. And worst of all? I didn’t even have my coat. I stared up at him for an embarrassingly long thirty seconds – _tick, tock, tick, tock,_ went the clock on the wall – wishing I could tear my eyes away. Anything but look at him like that. With my newfound humanity had come the self-protective command Dean was rather too fond of: never let anyone else see you in pain. Well, he’d taught me that much, at least.

I stood, after a horrible, _awkward_ eternity. I didn’t say anything, afraid my voice would break.

He walked me out.

We were nearing the door, our footsteps falling a little too quietly on the hallway floor. He’d led me out the back way, which was at least three times as long. I didn’t know why; but as the door got bigger with every step and my miserable heart thudded away in my chest, I felt sure it was to prolong my suffering. When we were standing in front of the last door on the left, three feet from the door to the cold and the rain, he caught my hand. “Cas,” he said, the word clipped short, like he’d thought to add _wait_ on the end and then changed his mind.

His hand was warm. That was the first thing I noticed. Then, I had an inkling. Something about the raw edge of his voice when he’d said my name. Something about the way we were all alone in the corridor. Something told me that maybe this would be like the other times, the other times we didn’t talk about. I stayed where I was, eyes on the door, while he held my hand behind me. Waiting. The hand was an invitation of sorts, I supposed. The only question that remained, was did I want it?

The quickly arising _Should I have it?_ and _Can I really have it?_ were smashed aside by my experiences on the streets. I knew what he was offering. And when I’d been cold and wet and hungry and oh God, so tired – the impression I’d got was that if somebody wanted to give you something, you ought to take it. Take whatever you can get. (Unless they intended to kill you after sleeping with you. I’d learned that the hard way.)

My time with April had indeed been very educational. It also didn’t come close to my time with Dean. It had been pleasurable in the physical sense alone, and provided a modicum of comfort. It hadn’t made my blood singe with fire, my thoughts run wild, the heart of my grace glow. It was true that a part of me wanted to throw his hand back in his face. Tell him I didn’t want his pathetic semblance of an apology, or whatever the hell this was. To go my own way, independently, instead of clawing at him feebly for whatever brief comfort I could derive from his arms. Human beings are marvelously resilient. And yet so very…weak.

I was weak in that moment, so very weak for him.

I turned back to him, and from the moment I laid eyes on him again, it was so easy. Too easy. I wanted to tear my way inside of him, steal a piece of him for myself and bury it under my skin. I took a single step and closed the distance between us, so our chests brushed and I could feel his breath on my face. He cupped my cheek for a moment, and ran a thumb over it. His hands were shaking. He leaned in and kissed me, and oh. _Oh._

Kissing him as a human was as foreign as it as familiar. So all-consuming. So frustrating – I had to keep breaking away to breathe. It made my already-abused heart flutter like a dying butterfly, thrashing delicately in my chest.

He guided me into the room and closed the door behind us. The room was a storage closet of sorts, and by the look of it, it hadn’t been used for some time. It was dark and dusty, but oddly warm.

I stared at Dean for a long moment, and wondered what this horrid aching in my throat was. It felt like my lungs were trying to tear themselves apart and my chest crack in two. The longer I stared, the worse it got, and the backs of my eyes started to burn. I looked away. Watching every minute expression of pain flash across his face was too much. He stepped forward, and his hands came to rest gently on my shoulders. I gazed at the sliver of floor just beyond his boots, wondering if it held any answers for me.

He kissed my jaw slowly, gently. The brush of his lips against my skin brought me back to the present. Made me remember why I was here. I turned my face to him and kissed him, trying to keep the edge of desperation out of it, closing my eyes so I couldn’t see him. He pressed me back against the wall, and I was surrounded on all sides. The press of the wall against my back, his arms bracketing me on each side, his heart hammering against mine. I was enclosed and the sensation, while foreign, was not entirely unwelcome. It felt almost like being safe, come to think of it.

Normally, he would’ve been the one against the wall, pinned there by my hands. This was different. I felt so…lost. It seemed the only thing left for me to do was to follow his lead, to cling to him, to make the stinging pain in my throat go away. Maybe I was asphyxiating. I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer, kissing him deeper. Surely, this was something beyond want. This must be what _need_ feels like as a human.

I hated it.

I hated my lungs burning like I couldn’t breathe, like something in my chest was about to shatter. I hated the way my legs were shaking. I hated the unrelenting urge to bury myself in him and never, ever leave. I hated the way I couldn’t stand to break away, the way I knew every nerve in my body would scream without him. I hated all the things that were missing – my ability to feel the pulse of his soul under my fingers, the way I could take in all the tiny details of him at once, omnipotent, even something as basic as my strength. It was overwhelming. I hated how I was reduced to this needing, quivering mess, overwhelmed by emotions I had felt before but never been completely consumed by. My control was gone. I hated how I jerked at his every touch, how gentle he was being and how breakable I had become. I hated the idea that perhaps, now that I was human, this encounter might mean less to him. I hated that I was so much less, and yet it felt so much more.

“Cas.” His hand hovered by the waistband of my jeans, fingertips just touching the bare sliver of my stomach.

 _Burning heaven above me._ I couldn’t hate it anymore. Not with the edge of tenderness in his voice, the hesitation, almost like he wanted to take care of me – but then, why would he… I bit my lip, hard, still surprised to taste blood welling up. I couldn’t even bring myself to hate this, so instead, I resolved, I would lose myself in it.

I kissed him, hard, our foreheads knocking together, and his hand shoved its way under my shirt, tracing over the bare skin there. Irritated, I broke away, and pulled my shirt off completely. He did the same, and when he turned back to me, I reached out for him, but he batted my hands away, turning his attention instead to my naked torso. I frowned, but the lines between my eyebrows were quickly erased as he mapped out my skin. _This is what worship feels like,_ I thought dimly. He mouthed over every one of my ribs, as if counting, treasuring each bone with soft strokes of his fingertips. _No,_ I wondered then, _Perhaps this is…care?_ I didn’t know.

My bones were much more prominent since my time on the streets, sticking out, stretching my skin. This should not have bothered me, but what was once my vessel had become my body. The way my bones protruded made me remember hunger gnawing in my belly, made me remember being alone in a crowd of people. Seeing myself hurt. And yet, he was kissing over every sign of my pain, the flicker of sadness in his eyes acknowledging it. He saw it. He was caressing my pain. So softly, so… _why?_

He licked at my collarbone, and I tossed my head back, ready to abandon everything to him, if only to feel this tenderness. It was so unfamiliar. I hadn’t even known it was something I wanted, until –

I keened as his hand brushed against my hardening erection through the fabric of my jeans. Jesus. That was…sensations swept through my body, hot and prickling and wanting. It had been good before, but never so – I whimpered – so much.

Before, I had felt every last touch, every single centimeter of skin where we touched. I had felt everything. Now the mere touch of his hand blotted out everything in an aching pleasure I couldn’t resist. I’d known pleasure, before, of course, but this was something else. Something terrifying. An all-consuming fire I could neither put out nor control, I could only burn in it.

I found I didn’t care.

“Dean,” I groaned, rutting up against his palm, feeling the sweet friction there.

He looked almost regretful to abandon lavishing my ribcage with reverence, but dropped to his knees. That, I reflected, was something. Dean Winchester, who never gave in, willing to fall to his knees for me.

He unzipped my pants slower than I would have liked, and inched my boxers down to my ankles, swiping his fingers up my legs in trailing patterns as he returned to my crotch. My cock stood throbbing for attention, red and glistening and deliciously closed to his flushed lips. “Dean,” I begged. I was past reprimanding myself for begging – there was little point in this exercise if I didn’t intend on losing myself completely in him, to store up the feeling of it somewhere safe where it could warm me on cold nights.

“I got you,” he said slowly, and ran a finger up the length of my dick.

My hips thrust forward involuntarily – I’d always been able to control that before – and I panted. Slowly, fuck, too slowly, he licked a broad stripe up my length. I gasped, more, God, I needed more. So this was what utter desperation felt like, interesting –

“Fuck.” I let out a strangled moan as he swallowed me down, down, straining to take me as far as he could. Hot, wet, oh. Syrupy heat flooded through my groin as he took me down into his throat. I wanted.

He’d been going at it only a few minutes when he looked up at me. A surge of panic hit me – _I couldn’t see all the individual shades of green anymore, what if I forgot them?_ – and then he grabbed my wrist, holding me tightly while staring up at me. _I got you._ I nearly screamed, a litany of moans falling from my helpless lips, pleasure pounding through me as I came in his mouth. Hot cum spurted out of me, his tongue lapping at the head of my cock, flames of ecstasy licking at my thighs as my eyes fell closed, blackness.

“Cas,” he said after a swallow, voice rough with sex.

“Yes,” I answered after a moment, eyes still hazy. He stood before me, a palm pressed to his crotch, and my gaze sharpened on him. I dropped to my knees, back to the wall, not hesitating to adopt his earlier position. It wasn’t as though my legs could properly hold me anyway. I ran a hand only briefly over his chest to pinch his nipple – I could see the shape of him hard and straining through his jeans, and didn’t want to keep him waiting. _Waiting –_ that was a new concept as well. I hadn’t realized how hard it was before.

I yanked open his jeans, taking delight in his sigh of relief as his gorgeous cock sprang free. I wasted no time in running a hand along it and wrapping my lips around it, preparing to swallow him down.

Pushing, pushing, further, yes – fuck.

I gagged, the sensation so foreign and unexpected it took me a moment to place it.

“Cas?” he asked raggedly, concern creeping along the edges of his lust.

I nodded, pulling off for a moment, stroking him with my hand. My throat felt rough and my eyes watered, and I was so preoccupied that I scarcely noticed the ache was gone.

 _Crying,_ I realized dimly. That’d been the pain in my chest. Trying not to cry.

“You don’t have to-” he began.

I bent and swallowed every inch of his cock down, ignoring the horrifying drag of it against my throat, the urge to cough and possibly even throw up. He almost shouted above me, and I looked up at him through now tearstained eyelashes. I wanted this. This visceral edge between my pain and someone else’s pleasure, the bending of the human body to the mind’s desires, the awful feeling I might be about to break. If I couldn’t cocoon myself from this (mortal) feeling using him, I would at least give him pleasure, and in that, take my own.

He came shortly, green eyes blown wide, lips parted, fast and hard down the back of my throat. The slide of hot cum down the inside of my chest should have been revolting, as it was, it was almost satisfying. Strange, how the human psyche mixed pain and pleasure until you don’t know where one ends and the other begins. I looked up at him, not bothering to hide my tears. It was too much. I couldn’t hide them.

He pulled me to my feet, drawing me close and holding me tight, pinning me back to the wall with his embrace. Perhaps I could blame the tears on gagging, I thought. Then again, did it matter?

“Fuck,” he said, voice broken like the rough edges of glass. His body spasmed a couple of times as he struggled to hold himself straight, and somehow I knew he felt that desperate ache in the base of his throat too, threatening to let the dams flood.

I savored the firm, warm, feeling of his body. _This could be the last time,_ it occurred to me. I held him tighter. Eventually, though, I pulled away. I was the one to pull away. Why he insisted on holding me after telling me to go, that was beyond my newly established human faculties. And so I zipped up my pants, tossed on my shirt, and left. I was out the door – it was raining, of course it was raining – until I realized what that was.

It was a goodbye. My first, as a human. I hadn’t realized what the fuss was about until now, how it punched a ragged hole in the heart, I hadn’t known. I hadn’t _known._ There had always been the possibility of heaven, of a meeting on some metaphysical plane, the ability to manifest at the first invitation of prayer. It was terrifying, knowing that I was walking away from him, that telephones were the only thin thread connecting us. It could be the last time. I’d said goodbye, and not realized it. I briefly considered the pros and cons of swallowing some of the broken glass shards which littered the sidewalk. A small thought whispered that I would never be able to say _Hello_ again if I did that.

I started to sob.


End file.
